


Can You Shine My Shoes?

by Loreyulia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: !960's AU, Architect Germany, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Human AU, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Romance, Shoe shiner Italy, Slow Build, rewrite of an old fic, use of accents while writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8709892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loreyulia/pseuds/Loreyulia
Summary: Ludwig Beilschmidt is a born and bred German man, who leaves behind his wealth to go abroad and further his career in Architecture. He finds himself drawn to the Big Apple, and here is where he meets a small Italian man, who changes his entire life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is an AU fic set in late 1960's New York. My depiction of said era and place will try to be as accurate as possible, though since I grew up in California in the 90's, it definitely won't be perfect. This story starts in Ludwig's perspective, but will change around during some chapters. I will put up notes before each chapter if there is a character change, so there will be less confusion.

Can You Shine My Shoes? 

Chapter One 

You know, life has a funny way of ending up completely opposite of what people plan for their futures when they are young. If I had known of the events that would transpire during the years of my life in New York City, I would have scoffed at myself and said that I was a liar. My life would have stayed as ordinary as could be and within the strict boundaries of normalcy that I clung to so dearly. Yet, I would have never met that small Italian man who, with a singular smile and four simple words, turned my entire world upside down. 

16th May, 1968 

Upon reflection I know I have always been a serious person, even as a child. Some could say perhaps I was too serious, but such behavior came with the territory. I was born 2nd December, 1945 in Berlin Germany in one of the foremost Hospitals the country had to offer. Roderich and Elizaveta Beilschmidt became my parents, and I their second son, that frigid December morning. 

One could also say I lived a charmed childhood; everything I could ever want was handed to me on a silver platter. My mother came from old money, while my father crawled his way to the top to become a rich and respectable man on his own. He knew the value of hard work, pinched pennies like a miser, but never once hesitated to give his family the desires of their hearts. He was frugal, there was no doubt about that, but he strove hard to ensure we would never want for anything like he did; I admire that about him, very much. 

Being the somber natured boy that I was, I never took what I had for granted, only occasionally allowing myself to indulge in an extravagant request. My brother on the other hand is what one could call "self centered." Gilbert was born very fragile, with white hair and practically crimson eyes-- classified as an Albino. His immune system was very weak, so he was rarely allowed to go outside as a child. So I suppose when I was born, it was the most amazing gift in the world to him... he was no longer alone. 

As children we were inseparable. So different, yet oddly complimentary. I was serious, Gilbert was irrational. I was shy and awkward, he outgoing and obnoxious. Mother doted on us equally regardless, told us we each had a special gift like Vater, buried deep inside ourselves. 

My father would come home every night and give us each a quick kiss on the forehead, and ask about our days. Dinner was filled with laughter and such warmth. After, we would all gather in the living room to wind down for the evening. Mother would break out her knitting needles, Gilbert would read his comic books, and I would listen to father play the piano. He has always been exceptionally good at it, so good in fact that in all my childish innocence, I believed that the piano had been invented singularly for him to play. It was a wonderful childhood, filled with love and support. None of that changed, even after my mother's sister and her husband passed in a terrible accident, and we suddenly found ourselves with two more siblings. Really, they were our cousins, but that never stopped us from treating them like they always belonged as our brother and sister. 

Vash was a year older than I, and made it his personal goal in life to not only protect his darling sister Lili, but me as well; Gilbert being far too old to need a 'babysitter' as my brother so vehemently put it. Gilbert outgrew his childhood fragility, though his health would never be strong enough for the rigors of society, so he was still confined solely to the manor. While he was home schooled, Vash and I were enrolled in the local private school. I suppose this is when Gilbert and I began to drift apart... by Gymnasium levels we were practically strangers. 

In the course of growing up we discovered Gilbert had a special way with animals. Every time he found an injured rabbit in our gardens, or a motherless kitten, he would nurse it back to health and either set it free or keep it as a pet. In one such event, he came across a little yellow canary with a broken wing. It was love at first sight for my brother, since he kept the ball of yellow feathers, and cleverly named the thing 'Gilbird'. At least my mother was right about Gilbert, he had found his special gift, but I was puzzled... why had I not found mine? 

It amuses me some days, when I think back on how taking a wood works class merely for the art credits, had opened my eyes to my gift. I was born to build, to create things with my own two hands that were useful, and even things that were beautiful. The first thing I ever remember building, was a birdhouse for Gil. To this day I can still recall the huge, goofy grin on his face as he embraced me quick and affectionate. 

The years flew by from then on, blurry and hazy in consistency. I graduated school at the top of my class, the perfect prodigal son to the Beilschmidt family name. My brother was the rebel child finally set free to his own devices when father realized there was no changing his wild behavior. I was appointed the shining star, the heir to all that my name upheld. Responsibility belonged to me, and I accepted it gracefully. 

Yet... as I grew older and attended one of the finer Architectural schools in Germany, I couldn't quite shake the feeling of wanting more. I was twenty three and already bored by traditional German architecture. Something awakened in me then and began to burn with an intensity not known to me before. A yearning for more, a desire to learn something new! 

A desire which lead to me purchasing a ticket for a voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. To leave my home in Germany, to leave all that was comforting and safe; to explore a new world, and learn more than I could ever dream of! That is what ultimately lead me to the boldest decision of my twenty three years of living, it's what--- 

"--dwig?" 

"Ludwig!" I shake my head roughly and look up from the sea salt damp pages of the notebook I was writing in. The leather bound book snaps closed easily and I try not to blush over being caught writing in it like a moony schoolgirl penning her memoirs of womanhood. Instead, I choose to stare imploringly at the shorter man who called my name. 

"Ja?" I give as a curt response, finding myself a little on edge and defensive. 

"We have arrived bruder. The Lady of Freedom is just on the horizon." I turn my gaze to the appointed direction, and my breath freezes in place within my lungs for a brief span of moments; my mouth hangs open ever so slightly. 

"Mein Gott..." I manage to murmur softly, "so... majestic. It's quite ze sight to behold." 

Vash gives me a tiny smile before he assents a response. "Agreed. Makes you feel somewhat small in retrospect, huh?" 

The sun glints off of the sprawling city, smoke rising to curl up toward the heavens in dense clouds. Vash was right, it all makes me feel incredibly insignificant. I nod in agreement, my shaking hands tighten around my luggage handle in anticipation. This was it, there was no turning back... this was the beginning of an inevitable end. 

 

I was not in my element to say the least. How could I have been prepared for the busy, noisy metropolis that is the 'Big apple'? I was so used to the quiet and quaint hillsides of Germany, that it is quite the culture shock indeed. Music thrums from the streets, cars honk loudly in congested traffic, and construction seems to be going on, on every corner. 

I am a man indifferent to many things, but this... this you could not ignore. 

The city practically pulses with life, and even I cannot help but be lost to its call. I feel like a nervous teenager again, entering Gymnasium for the very first time; excited, but terrified of being swallowed up. If not for Vash, dutifully leading the way at my side, I would have lost myself in all the commotion. 

"Here we are Ludwig," my cousin announces suddenly, "this is were we'll be staying until you've got all this 'wander lust' out of your system." 

I take a deep breath and clutch my luggage tighter as we make our way into the flat complex. 

"Vow, this is... opulent." 

Vash turns to me, taking my baggage and setting it in a corner with his own. "Well what did you expect, some rundown dump? These aren't the 'Swankiest flats in NYC' for nothing Ludwig."

I can't help the uncomfortable frown that twists my mouth as I reply, "Ja, I know... still, it seems a bit much all ze same." My gaze roams over the marble tiles, the gold leaf wallpaper, and plush leather seating. I sigh, remove my beige peacoat and lay it on one of the leather seats, before I walk over to the closest bedroom. "I think I'll take this one, if you don't mind Vash?" 

He only nods, his long hair bobbing along his shoulders. 

"I'm going to turn in early zhen, I do have a big day ahead of me tomorrow." 

Vash waves at me, already setting about with unpacking our luggage and settling us in. 

I open the dark wood door and inwardly groan at the ornate, four poster canopy bed that greets me. Perhaps it's my father's frugal disposition shining through me, but somehow I knew all of this unneeded sophistication will never cease in making me feel uncomfortable... 

17th May, 1968 

" 'ello Mon Ami, please take a seat!" 

I restrain the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance. French... of all the nationalities in the world, my potential boss just had to be French. I quickly take a seat in the squeaky pleather chair across from his desk. He regards me with intense sapphire eyes, his long fingers laced together as his chin rests against them; his elbows supporting the weight of his head. 

"So, eh Loo-dwieg Beelssshmid," he says my name slowly, trying his best (and failing) to pronounce it through his thick French accent. He idly sifts through some papers strewn across his desk, picking up one document in particular. "It sayz 'ere that you graduated at ze top of your class, and were grasping intricate Traditional German designs by ze age of twenty. Very impressive mon ami." 

God this is so embarrassing... I hated compliments. I merely nod my head in affirmation. 

"What brings you 'ere to America, if you don't mind me asking?" There's this saucy twinkle in the Frenchman's eyes that I'm rather wary of, yet I know that I have to respond; my future is at stake. 

"I... I vanted to learn more. I have zhis, zhis insatiable desire to build somezing magnificent, vith my own two hands. That is vhy I am here." I shift awkwardly as he regards me in silence. My mouth feels dry as cotton, and sweat begins to prickle at my forehead. 

He flips his shoulder length wave of pale gold hair in what I can only describe as 'flamboyantly' as a smirk settles on his lips. "Zhat eez exactly what I wanted to 'ear, Ludwig." 

A reluctant smile pulls at my usually stern lips. "So... does zhat mean?" I trail off purposefully, hoping he will understand what I am asking. 

"Oui," the blond smiles, and leans back in his high backed chair. "Welcome to Gateway.inc Monsieur Beilschmidt." 

Pride bubbles in my chest, and this time I give an honest smile. "T-thank you very much sir, I vill not let you down." 

"Call me Mr. Bonnefoy," the Frenchman laughs heartily, "or Francis, whichever you prefer, non?" He winks cheekily at me, making me blush at his forward and blatant flirting. "You start work tomorrow and I want you 'ere at eight o' clock sharp." 

I nod earnestly and gather up my jacket as I stand to leave. "Oh, and Ludwig," Mr. Bonnefoy states, "I 'ope you enjoy your time 'ere at Gateway.inc where we hope to make you feel as 'at home' as possible." His bright sapphire eyes look me up and down suggestively, and the way he bites his lip is not lost on me. I nod shakily again, and this time I take my leave, an extra pep in my step from my success. 

As I make my way out of the third floor office, I'm accosted by a loud man with wheat colored hair and bright blue eyes that are sort of hidden behind trendy looking glasses. 

"Hey," the man shouts unnecessarily, "you're the new intern huh? The name's Alfred F. Jones, pleased to meet'cha!" 

"Uh..." I can't think of a proper response, but evidently it doesn't matter, because the blond continues to ramble on (still rather loudly). 

"You're gonna love working here! I know Kiku does, and he only arrived here what was it, a year ago? Two? Doesn't matter. You love it here, don't you Kiku?" Alfred turns and shoots a Hollywood smile behind him, and it alerts me to the presence of a small, Asian man. 

"Hai Arfred-san. It seems rike I have rived whore rife here." 

The blond begins to laugh (loudly), and thumps the man with short black hair on the back. "Hahahahaha, man! I love the way you speak." 

Kiku winces slightly, but more or less ignores his rambunctious companions behavior. He turns and bows to me as he says, "I am Honda Kiku, it is an honor to meet you." 

I fidget nervously and bow slightly in return, not sure if I'm supposed to or not. "I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, I hope ze time ve share is special." The two stare at me in silence, and I blush as I realize how awkward I sounded. 

"Hahahahahah, wow you're a riot!" Alfred cries, and slaps me on the back heartily. 

"Hai, I agree." Kiku chips in a little too enthusiastically, with the same stoic expression on his blank features. 

I smile awkwardly and begin to scoot my way slowly from the two interns. "Vell..." I mumble softly, "I really should be going now." 

Alfred flashes me a thumbs up, and Kiku nods sharply. "Catch ya' later man!" 

"Goodbye Rudwig-san." 

With the sound of Alfred's obnoxious laughter fading in the distance, I make my way to the central elevator, and then exit the building. 

 

An hour or so later finds me finally back in our opulent flat and Vash greets me from the kitchen. "So, how did it go?" One of his blond eyebrows tilts up in question, as he eagerly awaits my response. 

I try to keep my face as passive as possible, so he won't be able to guess; but the overwhelming pride of landing my first job gets to me. A small smile cracks my stone-like facade as I reply, "I start vork tomorrow, eight o' clock sharp." 

"That's wunderbar! We should go out to celebrate." I frown and give my cousin a skeptical look. "Ludwig," Vash admonishes, "there are occasions when it is appropriate to spend money thoughtlessly-- even I think so." That was a heavy admission, because Vash could pinch pennies even tighter than father sometimes. 

"Get your coat..." I cave, knowing that Vash was right. 

 

Later that night, after a nice steak dinner at some exceedingly expensive restaurant, I lie wide awake in bed between the stages of wakefulness and sleep. And I can't help but wonder what my future here in America has in store for me.


End file.
